


Ben & Jerry

by chupacabras



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rickyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chupacabras/pseuds/chupacabras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt meme on Tumblr— specifically “Humor Me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ben & Jerry

The sound of the freezer opening is the red flag. Daryl doesn’t move from his spot at the table when Rick settles in his seat across from him, a spoon and pint of Ben & Jerry’s in hand. The lid was very carefully and calmly removed and set aside before the spoon dug in and the ritual began. Daryl watched in silence, chin propped in his palm and any amusement hidden well away as Rick began to polish off his Milk and Cookies ice cream. Not a word passed between them as Rick basically ate his feelings— whatever they were. They hadn’t really gotten the hang of that yet, the talking. Not without a few weird signals. Daryl paced. Rick would eat. They would avoid talking about the issue until Daryl’s feet hurt or Rick was too full. Then one would start— usually the one that had to wait in the unknowing silence, and they would deal with whatever it was. Sometimes it had to build up with banter.

“Judith?”

“Down fer a nap.”

“Carl?”

“Upstairs. Homewerk.”

Rick nodded and paused to free a particularly large chunk of cookie, and for a moment Daryl was sure their conversation was over. But then there was a sigh and the sound of the cardboard carton abruptly coming in contact with the table. Daryl raised his gaze, not because he was surprised but because he was actually searching for another cue to whatever was causing this particular date with Ben and Jerry. His main guess was work. A bad day on the force. Seeing kids make the wrong decisions. These things would weigh on Rick, depending on the day. Asking about the kids was a good sign, if anything. The way he pushed the unfinished carton of icecream closer to his side of the table? Even greater. A smirk slid to the surface of his features as he reached and took it to peeked inside, and there may have been a muttered remark concerning Rick’s habit of picking out ‘all the good parts’.

As laughter drifted from the kitchen and to the upstairs, Carl felt himself smile. Anything could be fixed with ice cream and the right company, even if the problems remain unsaid.


End file.
